The Death of Death's Master
by CassieWolfe
Summary: When Dean tries to summon Death, it doesn't go exactly to plan. This started out as humour, and still has a lot of banter, but turned into angsty Nico.


Dean was confused. It was not often that he'd admit to not knowing something, but in this case he thought he was quite justified in being surprised. He'd tried to summon Death, but it hadn't exactly gone according to plan...

Death had shown up alright. He'd basically told Dean how unimportant he was, and that to beat Lucifer Dean would need to let Sam die. Things had gone downhill from there.

"You think I'm going to let my baby brother die? Let him jump into eternal torture? Sorry, no."

"Excuse me?" Death asked, voice soft, yet lethal.

Dean licked his lips nervously. Death scared him a lot more than he'd like to admit, but he'd made a oath that he'd never break.

"I swore that I'd protect him. I swore that I would die before I saw him hurt, and I'm not breaking that promise. Not for you, or anyone else."

"Then you will get your wish, Dean Winchester. You will not leave this room alive, and your brother _will_ find himself in the Cage. It is fated."

Death reached out, fingers stretching to touch Dean's hand. Dean was no fool; he knew that a touch was all it took. Then, a moment before Death touched him, a pale hand grabbed Death's wrist.

Dean froze, wondering what creature would be stupid enough to lay a hand on Death.

His mysterious saviour didn't keel over. Instead, he spoke from behind Dean's shoulder.

"Stop. You know very well it's not his time."

Death scowled. "What are you doing here? I thought Daddy dearest would have you off after some ghost or zombie."

"Well, apparently that stuff's a bit below my pay grade," the person said. It sounded like a teenage boy, and Dean wondered why Death didn't simply will the kid to die, and get on with his killing spree.

"I sensed a few recently dead souls – not very happy with their new condition, by the way – and came to investigate. And what do I find? You, overstepping your job. You're lucky it was me; anyone else, and you'd have gotten your immortal fingers rapped quite severely."

Dean's protector let go of Death's wrist and walked around the table to sit in the free chair, between Dean and Death. Now that Dean could see him, he saw that his guess had been correct. It was indeed a kid of about fifteen, with dark hair, pale, almost translucent skin and haunted black eyes.

He scowled back at Death. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork you've caused in the last week alone?"

"Oh right," Death said grumpily. "We all know how the boss hates paperwork. Does he have you doing it again?"

"Why do you think I'm here? I'll take arguing with you over filing coming-back-to-life claims for Dad any day."

The boy finally looked over at Dean. "And what is so special about this guy that you'd go out of your way to treat him to lunch and then kill him? I thought it was just me you did that for. Makes me rather jealous, you know."

Death rolled his eyes. "You aren't that important, you know. Your sort always have a rather inflated sense of self, though."

"_Not that important_," he parroted. "Careful, or I might get offended and reconsider telling Dad about your recent massacre."

Death sighed. "This is Dean Winchester. I'm sure you know the name?"

"Indeed. So," he said to Dean, "You're the older Winchester. I must admit, I expected something a bit more... tortured. With what you've gone through..." He trailed off. "You hide your feelings. I admire that."

Dean didn't know what to say. "Who- who are you?"

"Nico di Angelo," he said. "I'd say it was a pleasure, but the circumstances are... regrettable."

Without thinking, Dean blurted out the thought that had been bugging him. "How are you bossing Death around? He can kill you, you know."

Nico smirked. "No, he can't. It's not my time. No matter how much Thantos here wants to kill me – and he does, trust me – he's not allowed. If he were to kill me right now, the balance would be upset. Thantos' job depends on balance. When – if – it's time to for me to die, I'll go peacefully, but for now my power trumps Thantos'."

"Thantos? I thought-"

He seemed to guess what Dean was going to say. "Death's a title, not his name."

"Well," Death said, standing, "I don't seem to be needed here. I'll just-"

He broke off when Nico grabbed his shoulder. "You're not going anywhere until you explain yourself. I know you well enough to know that this isn't like you. So why?"

"Lucifer has bound me to him," Death said, sounding as if every word was dragged from him. "He has me where he wants me, when he wants me."

"Well," Nico said cheerfully, "That's easily fixed. Can you get him here?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I can free you to go back to your... existence."

Death sighed and closed his eyes. A moment later, he spoke, sounding incredibly tired. "He's coming. You have approximately ten minutes before he shows up and kills Dean for me."

"Not enough time, but alright. Dean, get in the back room. This might well kill you if you're in the blast zone."

"And it won't kill you?" Dean wondered incredulously.

"I am rather difficult to permanently kill. Hell won't be pleasant, but it's about time someone took the demons down there in hand."

"So you're going to – what? Jump into Hell with Satan? What could make that worthwhile?"

"Yes, more or less. This world deserves to live, and while I might not be able to die, I can still feel pain. Hell is rather well known for its torture methods."

It took Dean a moment to process that. "Wait, you _want_ to be hurt? Why?"

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, but because enough pain makes one forget everything else. Including the mistakes one might or might not have made."

"But eventually you'll turn into a demon!" Dean protested, not quite able to reconcile the smiling teenager and hopeless, resigned words. "That's what Hell does."

"No I won't," Nico said, the smile slipping from his face. "I'll die, and come back in another world, even more powerful. That's what happens to me, forever. No heaven, no Hell, no Purgatory. Just eternal life and regret. Now get out of this room!"

Dean started toward the back room, only to turn at the doorway. "You don't have to just give up, you know. You can keep fighting."

Nico smiled again, sadly. "I've had enough of fighting, Dean. It's too addictive a way to let out anger."

Dean nodded. He understood that too well. Just before he closed the door, he heard Nico say softly, "I'm glad we met, Dean."

He closed the door and slid down it to sit against the door. In the other room, he heard Lucifer and Nico argue, then Lucifer's voice, tinged with fear.

"What _is_ that thing? You- you shouldn't have that!"

"And yet, I do. How strange."

Lucifer screamed then, his angelic voice coming through. And then – silence.

The door behind Dean opened. Death stood looking down at him.

"It is safe, Dean Winchester. You need not worry about your brother."

Then Death's form shimmered, and he was gone. Dean picked himself up and walked out to see dark scorch marks in the shape of wings on the ground. Near them lay a silver ring, shaped like a skull. Dean picked it up and put in his pocket. Then he walked out, stepping into the Impala to return to the motel. No doubt Sam would be glad to hear that Lucifer was gone, but Dean was somehow unsettled by the manner of that leaving.


End file.
